“Oh,” Agent Travis responded, having the good grace to look embarrassed. “We’ll most of that’s because of Susan, Agent Sinclair, that is. She’s a senior agent,” he finished as if that explained anything.
“I guess I’ll need to find a new desk now,” the agent continued, a wistful tone filling his voice.
“Travis!” a stunning redhead shouted as she hurried around the extravagant desk. She was an eye-catching sight, with the physique of an Olympic gymnast combined with the face of a supermodel.
If you could look away from her desk, that is. Large enough to fill the offices of most CEOs he’d met, it looked to be made of solid mahogany. Or at least the few bits that weren’t covered in gold leaf did.
A partition, also made of mahogany, split twenty percent off from the rest; forming what he assumed was Agent Travis’ section. That his portion alone was enough to rival most of the other desks highlighted how massive the thing was.
In an instant, the woman had an arm slung around the agent’s shoulder, grinning down at him. Despite his unassuming demeanor, the agent was not a small man, yet Susan towered over him by at least a head.
“How’d it go then? My mentee’s first case, I’m so proud,” she gushed, barely seeming to notice Kevin.
“It’s still going,” Agent Travis responded, doing an excellent job of appearing unaffected beyond a light blush. “Could you keep track of him while I get the paperwork filed?”
“Sure thing,” she responded, letting the man go and walking back to her desk. She moved slower this time, a bit of sway in her hips as she called back. “And there’s no need to rush finding a desk, I quite like having the company.”
Kevin turned, giving the agent a covert thumbs-up. The man ignored him, only waving goodbye as he returned to the elevator. Leaving Kevin alone with the supermodel gymnast.
It was good he didn’t intimidate easily and had just sworn off romance for a while, or he might have gotten himself into trouble. As it was, he settled for sliding into the agent’s plush office chair and left it up to Susan if she wanted to talk.
The damn thing was beyond comfortable; he wasn’t sure it should have been physically possible for something to be so soft, and yet still support your weight. Were they using Qi to make more comfortable chairs?
That seemed disrespectful, somehow, and yet he couldn’t argue with the results. How did they get any work done without falling asleep? His body was already reminding him it had been a trying few hours.
Instead of nodding off, he turned to Travis’ work area; several arms-spans wide of plain wood before the desk transitioned into decorative gold. Most of the space was covered in fallen stacks of paper as if someone had destroyed their careful organization system in a hurry.
“Travis works hard,” Susan said from beside him.
Kevin spun the chair, heart thundering. He would have sworn she was still on the other side of the desk. Instead, he found her leaning against Travis’s side with her arms crossed, only a few feet away.
“I hope you didn’t give him too much trouble,” she continued, a frown on her perfect face.
“Only a little,” Kevin responded, resisting the urge to leap away from the woman.
Her face and posture relaxed as she gave a curt nod. “I’m glad. He’ll make an excellent agent. Might even take my spot if he can get his cultivation up.”
While the insight into Agent Travis’ life was interesting, he was more intrigued by the opening she’d left. “Speaking of cultivation,” he began, observing the woman for signs of annoyance.
“Are you a body cultivator? If you don’t mind me asking.” It seemed like the obvious guess given her physique.
“Yep,” Susan smirked, flexing an arm. Her muscles expanded as she did, forcing Kevin to reevaluate that part of her physique from gymnast to world-class bodybuilder.
“Why? Still trying to figure out how the world works?”
Kevin paused, searching for a delicate way to phrase the question. “I understand that body cultivation provides the shortest lifespan improvement. Can I ask why you picked it?”
The woman pursed her lips, “There are a few reasons. The main one is that I’d rather live a shorter incredible life than a longer decent one. Body cultivation might not tack as many years onto the end of my life, but it provides better vitality.”
Susan’s face cleared, “Us body cultivators don’t physically age until our life force is about to burn out. I’ll look just the same in a century as I do now,” she posed, grinning at him with a raised eyebrow.
Ignoring the obvious opening, however good she looked, Kevin nodded in return.
“Besides,” she continued after a few moments. “I’m stronger, so I make more money than I would otherwise. More money means I can access more advancement resources, and I can purchase life-force elixirs when I need to.“
Kevin blinked, taking in what she’d just said. Life extension potions were a thing? “How effective are they? He asked, eyes brightening. That was an entire field he hadn’t considered.
“They’re decent,” Susan shrugged, an unconcerned look on her face. “Less effective the more you take, but you can get a couple of hundred extra years if you’re rich. Enough to get close to what most styles provide.”
“Does working for the OIM pay well, then?” Kevin asked, raising an eyebrow. The different viewpoint she presented was intriguing; become strong first to push yourself further and then handle longevity later.
It wasn’t the direction he’d have chosen, but it brought up an important point. He couldn’t expect to cultivate in a vacuum, he’d have to get resources somehow. Not to mention the potential effect of stacking these life-force elixirs on top of an already life-extending style.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“Pretty well, better if you’re on the emergency list like I am,” Susan said, waving a hand over her ridiculous desk. “The government’s willing to pay a premium to have the extra power on hand.”
“Right,” Kevin nodded, glancing around the office with fresh eyes. At first, it had seemed crazy to employ powerful cultivators to do mundane paperwork, yet her words put the matter into perspective.
Here, sitting at their silly desks, was a level of deployable force that would have only been matched by a tactical missile silo back home. No wonder they gave the agents whatever they wanted.
The fact they did their own work still felt odd — why not hire secretaries to do most of it? — but he supposed it was just how their culture had developed. Perhaps it was as simple as getting work out of them when they weren’t needed to smash an interdimensional invasion to pieces.
Then again, the sheer efficiency gain they provided might be worth the cost all on its own. Susan had returned to her desk as the conversation trailed off and was blazing through a stack of paperwork that would have taken a normal person hours to finish.
What a strange world he’d arrived in. Kevin’s face morphed into a grin as he lay back in the enchanted office chair; he was already growing to love it.
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A hand on his shoulder snapped Kevin from the doze he’d fallen into. Jerking upright, he looked up to see Agent Travis standing beside the desk.
“Apologies for the wait,” the agent said, a wry look on his face. “Everything’s sorted now so we can get going. You’ll want to keep these safe,” he finished, handing over a set of folded pages.
“Thanks,” Kevin said, raising an eyebrow as he unfolded the papers. A small metal plate almost fell out, forcing him to catch it before it hit the floor.
Made of burnished brass, the plate was embossed with his name and a string of letters and numbers. At a glance, the accompanying paperwork provided additional confirmation that he was a registered resident of the country of Caldain.
“Keep the card with you,” Travis said, pointing at the brass plate. “And leave the paperwork somewhere safe. You shouldn’t need it unless something goes wrong.”
Nodding, Kevin slid them into different pockets in his slacks, then stood and stretched. Despite missing his chance to interrogate an advanced cultivator further, the nap had been just what he needed.
“To the doctors, then?”
“Yes,” Agent Travis nodded. “I’ll see you later, Susan,” he continued, turning to the woman across the desk.
“Bye Travis! We’ll have to go out and celebrate your first case when you’re done,” Susan responded with a bright smile. “It was nice meeting you, Kevin.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Kevin said, “Thanks for the information.”
“Anytime,” she laughed, resting back with her arms behind her head. “It’s literally my job.”
Waving back at her, Kevin turned to follow Agent Travis toward the elevator. They walked in silence until the door closed, then he turned to grin at the agent.
“She’s pretty into you.”
The man jerked back, looking floored. “Special Agent Sinclair?” His tone sounded shocked. “She’s a core Formation Cultivator in the third stage; the second strongest person in the building!”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. What did that have to do with anything? “All the signs are there,” he responded with a shrug. “She likes you as more than just a co-worker.”
Agent Travis was shaking his head, his cheeks flushed. “There’s no way. I’m only in the Energy Gathering realm, and I only made full agent this morning. She could have anyone she wants.”
Sighing, Kevin leaned against the elevator wall. For all their enhanced abilities, it seemed cultivators were just as human as anyone else. “Well, no pressure if you’re not interested. But if you are, ask her out. The worst that can happen is a few days of awkwardness.”
The agent’s face was bright red. “Look, she’s gorgeous and an amazing person, but it wouldn’t work out.” At Kevin’s skeptical glance, he continued. “She’s a full realm higher, and being a body cultivator pushes her physical strength even higher.”
“If she… lost control, it could go badly.”
“Ah,” Kevin nodded, that would put a damper on any intimate time. “Well, that’s a hell of a motivator then,” He continued with a shrug. “You’re almost at core formation yourself.”
“Go crush that last stage, then ask her out to celebrate.”
“If only advancement were that easy,” Agent Travis sighed. “It could take years to push that far.” Despite the man’s words, the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.
“Fair enough,” Kevin shrugged as the elevator doors swung open. “I guess Susan will have to make do with knowing you think she’s gorgeous, for now,” he said, taking a guess.
“I mean,” he continued, glancing up at the roof. “A Core Formation body cultivator has to have pretty incredible hearing.”
He must have been right; the way the man’s face paled was beyond amusing.
----------------------------------------
The doctor’s office was a small, two-story building, dwarfed by narrow flats on each side. They’d only had to walk a dozen blocks, but Kevin had still seen more strange architecture than he had in his entire life.
Most of the residential housing was long rows of three or four-story buildings. From the placement of the doors, it looked like a single flat was built up rather than out, taking up the full height of the building but little of its width.
It was the other buildings that were truly odd. They were of strange styles and all kinds of sizes, sprinkled throughout the residential buildings with no rhyme or reason. Even the presence of the OIM headquarters in the area was odd.
Perhaps it was an artifact of so much air travel, allowing public and private infrastructure to spread throughout the city. It would let people who worked here live nearby, while people visiting could fly in.
Or perhaps cultivators just built where they wanted to. Once again, he lacked the background knowledge to tell how things had developed this way.
On arrival, a middle-aged woman in robes saw them straight to an examination room. It looked like any other he’d been in, and he’d been in plenty, except for the painted circle to one side.
After seeing them seated in comfortable lounge chairs, she left to fetch the doctor.
“The OIM would appreciate it if you’d let me sit in,” Agent Travis said. “It helps if we can get a broad view of the different issues outsiders face.”
Kevin raised an eyebrow at the man seated next to him. Waiting until after he’d been let into the room seemed rather late. Perhaps it was just a formality? Who knew how medical privacy worked here?
“Sure,” he shrugged regardless. He could use all the help he could get, and the agent was the only person he knew. And wasn’t that a sad thought? He needed to find some new friends.
A moment later, an older man flowed into the room with the grace of an advanced cultivator. Kevin would have placed him in his late seventies for a mortal; as a cultivator, he had to be far older.
“Ah, Travis Baldwin,” the man said, “On your own this time?”
“Yes, sir,” the agent responded, standing and bowing low. “My first case as a full agent. Kevin here is looking to understand any potential cultivation blocks or advantages he might have.”
“Of course, I’m always happy to help the OIM,” the doctor chuckled. “Hello there Kevin, I’m Dr. Grange.”
Taking his cue from the agent, Kevin rose and bowed as well. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dr. Grange clapped his hands, a sharp motion that sent a crack throughout the room. “Well then, let’s get started. Please step into the sensor circle.”
“Right,” Kevin blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. Didn’t the man want his medical or family history first?
Moving into the circle, he watched curiously as the doctor waved his hands, chanting something under his breath. This time there was no fancy machinery in sight. A cheaper method perhaps? Or just a more traditional one?
The circle shifted to glowing blue light for a minute before fading away. Dr. Grange gestured him back to his seat, before moving over to a wide desk against the right wall.
“Just a moment,” the doctor said, then his face went blank, his eyes unfocused as he stared at nothing.
“It’s a technique,” Agent Travis said in response to his quirked eyebrow. “For accessing memorized information. Dr. Grange is comparing your results to everything he’s ever read.”
“Neat,” Kevin grinned, settling in for a wait. What an interesting ability. Had the machinery Doctor M was using done that for her as well? How did such a combination of mysticism and technology work together?
It was intriguing to consider and helped stave off his growing nerves. Soon he’d know if his journey was doomed from the start.